


Victim of the Sum

by mggislife2789 (dontshootmespence)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Sex, Supernatural Kink Bingo 2019, vanilla sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:21:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21853045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontshootmespence/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: He may have accepted his fate, but you haven’t. You refuse to let Dean become the martyr he seems destined to be.Set during The End.Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)
Relationships: Dean Winchester/You, Endverse Dean Winchester/You
Kudos: 9





	Victim of the Sum

Hold the day  
Make it through, fall into the line

Safe is a relative term these days. But within the confines of your encampment you’re about as safe as you’re ever going to be. Years ago, before the Croats fucked you all royally, you would’ve headed out on a day like today, sun shining, breeze just so. Headed out to take in the world around you. A hike in the woods. A slip into the sea. Something to remind you what a big and beautiful place the world could really be. 

That’s not an option now. Walking outside the encampment alone is asking for death. 

It’s coming. That you’re sure of, but you’re making the best of the end times. With Dean by your side.

You see him step out from your cabin, all bravado and determination, just like always. Something in his eyes screams confusion, but you figure he just woke up from a much needed and deserved nap and walk over to him, placing a kiss upon his lips.

A smirk passes his lips as words form behind his eyes, but before he can say anything, he’s reaching past you, calling out to someone else. “Wait!”

The sickening crack of a gunshot - the kind you’d never get used to no matter how many you shot off a day now - startles you. You turn around to see your fallen friend and...Dean. With a gun in his hand.

After double-taking between the two a comical amount of times, you manage to speak. “Dean? Who the hell did I just kiss?”

\----

All the way  
To a carnival of causes and delight

The world is ending because of a zombie apocalypse. This shouldn’t surprise you. Yet it does. “So this Dean is from 2009? And Zachariah sent you?”

“What for?” Your Dean asks. “Let you see how bad things get? Newsflash, it’s a shit show.”

“I guess, something like that,” Dean 2.0 replied. Or is he 1.0?

Watching your Dean explain to his past self that Sam is gone breaks your heart, but you can tell he doesn’t truly understand the gravity of the situation. For a moment, you contemplate whether or not to enlighten past Dean that his brother isn’t dead, just enslaved to the essence of Lucifer, but you decide against it, telling the man you love that you’re going to set things up for tonight’s mission. 

“Thanks,” he says with a softness that you don’t hear too often anymore. “We’ll meet at 5 to discuss tonight’s mission.”

\----

Because we can’t become  
Victim of a sum

You head toward the cabin you share with Dean, nerves on edge, at five on the dot. Every muscle in your body is jumping in anticipation of tonight’s task. Kill the Devil. No biggie. Or all biggie. One of the two. 

Apparently, everyone else is eager to get this show on the road, because you’re the last to walk in. Dean is steely-eyed, his past self has his mind somewhere else - literally and figuratively - Cas is high as fuck. How did your life become a circus?

On a normal day, you’d be active in the discussion for tonight’s mission, but you can’t help but sit back and notice the stark differences between your Dean and the Dean he apparently was just five short years ago. There’s a lot on his mind, of course, but he’s lighter. There’s a hint of a jokester in there. Something you’ve never seen before. Even Cas remarks that he enjoys 2009 Dean. 

You tune back into the conversation as Dean is discussing the final logistics. Had you not woken up next to him for the past five years, had you not memorized his every idiosyncrasy, you would’ve missed the smallest muscle tick just at the top of his jawline and the way his eyes darted ever so slightly toward the others going on the mission. He’s lying about something. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” You ask, eyes boring into him.

As well as you know him, he knows you just as well. “Gimme a minute,” he says gruffly, putting off the inevitable. He knows you know something’s up and he doesn’t want to face your wrath, but you’re not giving in.

“Dean-”

He catches your eye and you motion out the door, arms cross and eyes ablaze. Reluctantly, he follows, eyes trailing all of his friends and past Dean as they file out of the cabin, ready to spend some time doing whatever they want before the risky mission ahead. “What is it, Y/N?” His voice is firm but faltering.

“You can’t lie to me, Dean. What are you planning to do?”

“Nothing,” he says, that same muscle ticking in his jaw. “We’re going after the Devil. Standard fare for us.”

You whisper, not wanting anyone else in the camp to hear what you’re accusing Dean of. Your lives may be a shitshow, but you don’t want outright mutiny. “You’re planning on using everyone else as a diversion while you go after Lucifer. You’re gonna sacrifice them - me - to the Croats, while you go after him?”

“You’re staying with me.”

“Oh, so you’ll sacrifice your friends - Cas - of all people, but I get to stay behind? This isn’t you!” Your voice is getting louder, but Dean grabs your hand and pulls you back toward the cabin you share before anyone can hear your disbelief. 

Before he can stop himself, it’s out, and he regrets it. “How would you know?”

“I wouldn’t-” you say sadly. “But this morning your past self walked into my life and I see the man you were. Just five years ago...” The tears crest in your eyes, falling gently down both cheeks. “He wouldn’t have sacrificed Cas for anything. He wouldn’t sacrifice innocents for anything. Not even this. And you’re barely blinking at the thought. Please,” you beg. “Don’t do this.”

“What is our option?” He asks. “How do we stop the Devil?”

“We don’t.”

“What? Not an option, Y/N.”

“Yes it is. Either we all go up against him and lose or we don’t and we pray that your past self being here now throws a wrench in whatever plan hell and heaven have.” You pull him toward you by his shirt, marred with tears, sweat and the blood of every Croat in a 50-mile radius, and press your head against him. “Dean, what do you think are your chances of coming out of this mission alive? Be honest with me.”

“I’m not a super genius so I can’t give you a percent, but the likelihood any of us come back alive is slim.”

“Exactly, and if you do this...this plan that you have, and you die, you die a man that you aren’t. A man that lost his heart and soul in a fight that should’ve never been placed on his shoulders. I’m begging you, please...don’t die that man.”

For all we know  
And all we've shown  
Crazy our survival  
To keep from drowning

He wraps his arms around you, hand cradling the back of your head, and sigh in relief, some of that tenderness returning in his grasp. “Okay,” he says softly. “We’ll hope that past me makes some different choices.”

It’s a featherlight whisper, but it stems the tide of tears, and the pads of his thumbs wipe the rest away. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I know. I love you, too. That’s why I can’t have you die someone that you’re not.” 

His hands grasp the sides of your face as he lowers his lips to yours, just a graze at first, that leads to something much more desperate. Hands search for fabric that needs little help in fraying, material flying across the cabin and into the walls. You arch your body into his, taking in the heat of his skin, the neediness in his touch. You feel the strength of his grasp, the pulse of his fingertips. 

As he backs you toward the bed, you pull him in for a deeper kiss, but nothing will be deep enough. His glides his tongue over yours and lays you down gently, crawling up your legs and placing whispers of kisses on every inch of your skin. When his breath floats over your pussy, you whimper, gasping when his tongue hits your skin. “Dean, please.”

Grasping your legs with both arms, he pulls you closer, devouring your slick as you come undone on his tongue. “Dean, I need you. Fuck me...please.”  
He reaches behind you and hikes one leg up and around his waist, fingers brushing against your arousal as he teases your pussy with the head of cock. 

When he slides home, you both cry out softly, yours disappearing on a whisper while his rumbles against your throat. He uses his legs to spread yours wider, thrusting deftly into your tight heat, a litany of curse words falling from his lips as your pussy constricts around him. “Oh, fuck, Dean, more.” He picks up the pace and brings you over the edge, following closely behind and holding you closer than he ever has before while you ride out the waves. 

He collapses against you, nuzzling your neck and basking in the moment. But it doesn’t last long. His body goes tense. “If past me makes different decisions, we’ll never meet...” He says, the realization just dawning on him.

“I know,” you reply. “But I’d rather you stay the man you are in your heart than lose that to keep me.”

“You’re more than I deserve.”

“You deserve more than you believe, Dean Winchester.”

Smiling against your neck, he tells you to sleep. You’ll need every bit of strength you have in the coming hours as you take on this fight together. 

Oh, we pray  
(To keep from drowning)  
To make it through the night

When you awake later, the sun is beginning to peek through the clouds and the bed is cold beside you. Reaching out, you hear the crinkle of paper, tears threatening to tear you apart before you even read his words.


End file.
